Jacklough
by flyawaymydarlings
Summary: A Doctor Who AU where the Fifth Doctor's companion Vislor Turlough meets the Ninth and Tenth Doctor's companion Captain Jack Harkness, and soon hit it off.. Based off a DW Chatzy room who made them a couple. Jack and Tur, this is for you. Shout out to realtalkdoctorwho for the edit that's the cover image, thank you! (PS- you should spread the ship, if you like it. ;) )
1. Prologue

Traveling with the Doctor… You have to keep an open mind to anything, all possibilities. Everything. And that openness, that _willingness_ to believe, accept… That stays with you. Forever. And that is exactly what caused Vislor Turlough and Jack Harkness to fall in love.


	2. An Unaccounted For Meeting

Jack Harkness had spent a long, long time looking for the Doctor. Too long. Of course, he wouldn't simply ever _give up_ his search… Never. This time the year was 1982. He had been leaning more about learning about UNIT, having just found the Doctor, a much younger regeneration of the Doctor, at least, had been trapped there for a while. Unfortunately, he had moved on already, and apparently regenerated on at least twice, if the files he stole held true.

As he drove up to Brendan Public School -which was actually an all boy boarding school- he checked the glanced down at the file. Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart was the man he was looking for. Some people really just can't make up their minds when choosing names, can they? He smirked slightly, and parked right out front, not caring if it was a spot or not. He got out, leaving his sunglasses on, liking the air of mystery and… Well, _coolness_ it added to him. He grabbed the file and locked up his brand new bright orange third generation Cheverolet Camaro. As he went in, a pair of boys were coming out, one with glasses, the other sporting a head of red hair. He noticed one of them eyeing his Camaro.

"Is that yours?" The boy's voice was high and pitchy, one of those voices that made everything sound like a whine. Childish as it might be, the boy didn't look like a _boy._ He was 20 years old _at least_. The school only catered to those 13-18.

"It is." He smirked, pocketing his keys.

"It's nice." The boy whined.

"I got it just for you. Matches your hair." Jack laughed.

The boy was not amused. "It looks new."

"It is." Jack repeated.

"I don't recognize you. You're not a teacher, and you're definitely not a student. What are you doing here?" The ginger asked. The one with glasses had yet to do anything but look nervous.

"I'm actually looking for a teacher. Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart?"

"Yeah, I know him."

Jack paused, waiting for him to expand. He didn't, little prick. "Could you point me in the right direction?" Jack asked after a moment of silence.

A glint passed through the others eyes. "Yeah, of course." He smiled slightly, not a real smile, but it was as friendly as he had been. The redhead placed a hand on Jack's back, pointing through the wall, as he gave directions to the Brigadier's office. As he finished, the boy moved his hand slowly, lazily around Jack, his lower back, his hip, his pocket, until he was at Jack's- "Whoa!" Jack laughed, pushing himself back some. The boy blushed, and put his hands behind back, guilty. "Sorry." He mumbled sheepishly. The friend looked horrified.

"Maybe when you're older." Jack whispered, although not completely convinced he wasn't already. The boy simply smiled, and didn't look at him. "Well," He said, heading to the door, "Thank you, for all your help... I don't think I caught your name!" He called back, pushing the door open.

"Turlough!" The ginger called back, voice cracking on the second syllable.

Jack nodded. "Jack. Thanks for everything, Turlough." He said, going through the door.

"No, thank you!" He grinned as Jack disappeared.

"Turlough!" Ibboston, Turlough's friend said, as soon as Jack was gone. Turlough grinned widely at him as Ibboston went on. "You stole that man's keys!"


	3. The Great (Ginger) Race

"You can't steal a stranger's car, Turlough." Ibboston frowned.

"Of course I can." Turlough countered. "He said he bought it just for me. Matches my hair, remember?"

"That was meant to be a joke and you know it." Ibboston said earnestly, not seeming to understand Turlough's sarcasm. He never did. For being the only human being Turlough really liked, he could really hate him sometimes.

"He should have been clearer." Turlough sighed, getting in. "Are you coming or staying?"

Ibboston let out a groan, getting in. "I'm always coming." Turlough glanced at him, amused, as it registered on the other boy. "Oh, no, no. That's not what I me-ea-ant!" He cried, as Turlough quickly revved the engine, taking off down the drive, full throttle.

If Ibboston hadn't gotten stuck being swished along at whatever ungodly pace Turlough was going at, he might have found the whole ordeal funny. Turlough, racing down the pathway, in a car an identical color to his hair, students hoping out of the way left and right, trying to avoid Turlough's immense swerving. Immense swearing as well, Turlough seemed to have a case of road rage.

"We need music!" Turlough decided, fumbling with the eight-track cassette player. Popping whatever he had grabbed in, hoping it wasn't classical, or country, or something awful like that. Luckily, it was quite easily the perfect song. Brownsville Station, "Smokin' in the Boys Room." Turlough smirked, pushing the pedal in tune with the song, sometimes making purposeful, drastic swerves to go along with it.

"I'm going to be sick!" Ibboston moaned.

Turlough barely cast a glance at him. "Stick your head out the window, it will smell." He advised, speeding up again.

"Turlo-" Ibboston's own sick cut him off. He reeled his head out the window, but it was too late.

This caused but a sigh from Turlough. "I told you to stick your head out the window." He complained.

"Sorry." Ibboston muttered, still feeling nauseous.

"I'll just go around once more." He decided. If Ibboston could protest, he would have asked what exactly "going around once more" implied, as all they had done was go through a series of jerky twists due to Turlough's utter lack in driving skill. "I think that's about all I'll be able to stand of your wretch." He scrunched one nostril unpleasantly.

"Turlough, slow down!" That was all he managed, before getting sick again, this time unable to keep it in his area. Turlough screeched and let go of the wheel, subconsciously pressing down harder on the gas pedal. That's the last thing that happened before the world went blank for both the pair of Brendan Public School students.


	4. What To Do About Turlough?

Turlough was awoke very rudely by being shoved against a wall. Hm. How did that happen? He looked around, noting he was in the school's nurse's office, a place he spent many a day, constantly faking illness to sleep in. He noted he had been cleaned up and was out of his messy school uniform, thank whatever human God. There was Ibboston on the other bed, still asleep and looking rather battered. Whoops. His fault, anyway. He also noted Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart in the corner, looking angry. Of course, not as angry as the man holding him by his collar against the wall.

"Hello, Jack." Turlough gave a smug look. "I see you found Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart."

"You crashed my car!" Jack shoved him again. He was furious. Jack was suddenly aware he didn't get angry much.

Turlough gave an innocent look. "Then it's a good thing we're okay. We could have died."

Jack growled. "If you had died I wouldn't be so upset!"

"I'm a survivor." There was suddenly an edge to his voice.

"You don't know anything about surviving." Jack snapped back, causing a sudden, new tension in the air. There was a moment where the two simply stared at each other. The Brigadier cleared his throat purposefully.

Jack swallowed, and let Turlough down. He had gotten what he needed from the Brigadier, who had also volunteered his own car as means of getting back.

H stormed out of the room, muttering vows with general bad intentions towards Turlough.

The Brigadier followed, he was Jack's means of getting back, but not before turning back to Turlough. "You are not after the hook."

After they left, Turlough cleared his throat, and moved to adjust his tie, only to be reminded he wasn't one. Ibboston woke up. _He'd been awake, little prick._

"You shouldn't have done that, Turlough. You're in a lot of trouble."

Turlough brushed him off with a look of genera distaste. "What's the worst they can do?"

"I heard Mr. Lethbridge-Stewart talking to the nurse when they thought I was asleep. They're going to expel you, Turlough!"


End file.
